


The Message

by Ruis



Category: Chess Pieces (Anthropomorphic)
Genre: Chess, F/F, correspondence chess, game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21845725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruis/pseuds/Ruis
Summary: A game of correspondence chess. A knight's quest. A reunion.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 25
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	The Message

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reishiin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reishiin/gifts).



_The long-awaited postcard in Mila’s mailbox has been traveling far, and it shows. There is a bent corner Mila carefully smoothes, some persistent dirt on the image showing a castle she has never visited before, a water stain that smudged part of the address but has miraculously left the sender’s signature and return address (a new one again, Mila notices, in yet another foreign country) intact._

_Smiling melancholically, Mila walks over to the table in the corner of her study, the one she’s always been unconsciously avoiding during the last two years, and sits down. The board in front of her is already covered in a thin but unmistakable layer of dust that she quickly dusts off, sneezing. None of that matters, though. Mila is glad the card arrived at all, cherishes the message that instead of many words just consists of one move. Without thinking about it, she lifts the message to her lips before moving the piece on the board, setting it down with a loud clack that breaks the silence of her apartment._

22\. ... Ne4

The knight plops down in the muddy field that looks like it has already been trampled by countless feet before his arrival. He has traveled long and far and he carries an important message from his queen. He fears the recipient might be on the other side of the world; she travels much, she travels far. (He wonders if she ever leaves the board, then shakes his head. Surely there are limits to her power.) There is hardly any grass left for his faithful steed, not even a reasonably dry patch to set up a tent. He does not bother to put a blanket on the ground; all that would result in is a soaked blanket in addition to soaked clothes.

To make things worse, he’s clearly visible on all sides, in the open like this and without any backup from his comrades. The pawns to his sides stayed behind to guard the king’s castle still visible in the distance (or, he suspects, simply to avoid the killing fields, not that he can blame them... much), the rook who was supposed to guard his back is still lingering on the f-file, exhausted from castling (Ha! So that’s what they’re calling it these days? He has some suspicions about why the king is getting all cozy with his favorite rook instead of leading his army in battle, but the knight will never voice those in order to not become the first chess piece ever to be executed for lese-majesty.) and his twin, instead of supporting him, seems busy waving his fork at some well-defended white pawns making noses at him while holding hands in a merry chain. He is on his own.

He sighs. Anything for his queen, of course (and, if he is honest to himself, which he is most of the time, for her smile and the gleam in her eyes when she had handed him the letter in secret), but he hopes he will not have to spend too much time in this miserable place. Still, he knows it is the enemy’s move now. He wraps his mercifully dry blanket around his shoulders and settles down to wait.

_This is just like she remembers Rheena: a bold and unexpected move but not without merit. The knight is uncomfortably close to her castled king’s position, eyeing that always-endangered f2 square, and she had exchanged her d-pawn early in the game. Still, something would have to be done._

_Fortunately,the knight is not permanently installed there in the center, but she is not quite sure how to dislodge it best. She considers a few attack moves and immediately discards them again: any pawn move would weaken her own position. Mila smiles._

 _She randomly grabs a postcard from her stack: the image shows a generic sunset over a generic beach, obviously enhanced by digital image processing. She takes a pen (waterproof ink, this one; she’s always been the more cautious) and meticulously copies down Rheena’s new address, checking the spelling several times and committing it to memory. (She wonders if there is a point to that, all things considered; she does it anyway.) Bold should sometimes be countered with bold, Mila thinks. Without further hesitation, she scribbles down a move, puts her shoes on, grabs her coat and barely manages to put the card in the mailbox on the corner before the post truck shows up to empty it.  
_

23\. Qd4

She is all grace and white floating petals, the hem of her white dress miraculously unstained by mud or dirt. That is the first thing the knight notices when all of a sudden he notices he is not alone anymore. He curses himself: how could he have let down his guard like that? He had thought he had ben trained better than this. He musters the lady on the square next to him carefully. She is the recipient of his very important message, and he should be glad this is sparing him the trouble of searching her. Somehow, he isn't.

There could be no doubt the woman is beautiful. Still, it is a cold and harsh beauty, he thinks, but who is he to judge? She is a queen, after all. A queen pointing a weapon at him, he belatedly notices; the gleaming sword seems incongruous amidst the dancing petals. He is uncomfortably aware he has no viable defense. Also, he is uncomfortably aware he now has to face this foreign queen in wet pants. (In hindsight, he regrets having sat down.) He can only pray he will survive this encounter.

“Er”, he begins uncertainly. “Could you please put that away, er, Your Majesty?” Belatedly, he wonders if that even was the correct form of address. There is no court protocol for talking to the enemy, and up to this point, he had never wondered about that. He decides to be very polite just in case: she’s not his queen but a queen nevertheless, and thus deserving of respect. Also, he will admire any woman bold enough to appear on the battlefield in a ballgown. (Admittedly, the ladies do that all the time in the novels he secretly reads when his friends aren't around, but his battle experience indicates otherwise.) Only very briefly he considers drawing a weapon: he knows he is outclassed.

Imperiously, she holds out her left hand while her right never lets go of the sword he tries not to stare at. Clearly he, a mere knight, is beneath her notice except as messenger, not deserving of any words. “Right away, Your Majesty”, he mumbles. The message turns out to be at the very bottom of his pack; he had not expected to encounter the royal lady so soon. It has some flecks of mud, too: that mud really gets everywhere. (Not on Her Majesty's dress, though. He really wonders how she manages that feat.) Hurriedly, he wipes the rolled parchment on his sleeve, trying to be discreet about it. (He has no doubt Her Majesty notices anyway.) When the White Queen breaks the seal, he holds his breath.

_The reply comes much faster than expected. The card showing an old-fashioned painting of a lovely interior scene is crisp, clean and without a stamp. Mila shivers: she realizes what that means. Still, she knows better than to open the door immediately. First, she takes the good crystal glasses and pours two drinks she carries over the board. She fusses with her hair for a moment, then tells herself it doesn't matter._

_Only then she dares to look at the move and place Rheena's queen on the assigned square. It's a good and seemingly obvious move, saving the knight from imminent danger. For a moment, she is surprised at the defensive style that is so atypical of her lover. Only at second glance, Mila realizes the danger her king is now in. (That comes from not castling early enough, she chides herself. She should have done that as soon as the central pawns were exchanged.) From outside the door Mila hears muffled laughter._

23\. ... Qe7

He has never felt this scared before. The White queen is (finally! But he feels the occasion is somewhat less triumphant than he had imagined.) reading the message, first frowning, then smiling, finally laughing incredulously and crumpling the letter in her hand. Except... There, in the corner of his eye, he sees movement. His queen is backing him up personally! She remembered her loyal, faithful messenger! He is more relieved than he dares let on. Even in the distance, the Black Queen is resplendent in her armor, wielding the sceptre, holding all the power of the Black Court in the crown on top of her long black hair. She is waving: but at whom?

The queens are looking at each other, their expressions unreadable. He knows he shouldn't, but his curiosity gets the better of him: when he feels reasonably sure no one is paying attention to him, the knight takes a look at the discarded message lying in the mud. “Come back”, it says in beautiful cursive letters. Surprised, he glances at the White Queen who is completely ignoring him now, staring into the distance with a slight smile he had not expected from her (he is glad to see she has sheathed her sword, too), then at his own glorious queen, then at the undefended enemy king in the distance, far on the other side of the board. And then, finally, he understands. (And oh, this is even better than his novels!) He smiles and instead of bowing, he briefly presents the hilt of his hidden dagger to the Black Queen, knowing she will understand the gesture. He will not stand in her way.

 _There is no mistaking that laughter, even after all those years. (Also, she cannot postpone this any longer. Had she been preparing or just stalling? She isn't entirely sure herself.) Mila swallows, straightens, breathes deeply and finally opens the door. She doesn’t know what to expect (until now, she had not even been sure she'd ever see Rheena again; she equally anticipates and dreads the reunion) but she knows at least this game will come to an end tonight. Wordlessly, she points to the door of her study. Rheena knows the way._


End file.
